


Dancing Flames

by xXdark_moonXx



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Grillby is embarrassed, I rated this teen just because of the reference to sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Married Couple, Post Pacifist Route, Snowed In, but it’s barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28931838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_moonXx/pseuds/xXdark_moonXx
Summary: Grillby’s a little restless from being stuck inside all day. You try to help him out.
Relationships: Grillby (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Dancing Flames

You hum as you turn off the shower, ruffling your hair to help it dry as you step out and wrapped yourself in a towel. You look at the clock to see it’s nearly seven; Grillby’s probably done with dinner by now.

The restaurant had gotten snowed in (ironic considering where it was underground, but you’re not complaining), so Grillby and you had been able to spend the day together. Now that the restaurant was closed you watched movies and cuddled on the couch, which you were absolutely loving. You pull Grillby’s hoodie over your head as you step out of the steaming bathroom. 

“Just in time,” Grillby smiles, gesturing to the table. It’s set with a candle and your plates, filled to the brim with enticing food. 

“Ooh, is this a new dish?” You asked excitedly, taking your seat. Grillby pushes in your chair, then pauses a moment. 

“Is that my hoodie?” 

“Uh, nope! It’s mine until it stops smelling like you,” you tease as he takes his seat across from you. 

“Fair enough. I never wear it anyway,” Grillby chuckles. 

“Which is a crime. You would look super cute in it,” you hum, taking a bite of asparagus. 

“But yes, I wanted to try something different today. Beef tenderloin with asparagus and mashed potatoes.” 

“All my favorite things.” You take a bite of the tenderloin and groan. “Oh sweet mother of Pearl, I swear I would have married you _just_ for your cooking.” 

Grillby laughs. “Oh? Not for my shining personality?”

“Your looks and your personality are just a bonus,” you joke. “But seriously, this is delicious. As always.” 

You talk happily as you eat, and afterwards you settle on the couch. You let out a happy sigh, snuggling into Grillby’s warm side. He puts his arm around you, kissing your forehead. He can’t seem to keep still, however; he keeps subtly changing positions.

“You ok?” You look up at his face, taking the hand that’s draped over your shoulder. 

He nods. “Yes... I’m just used to being more, busy, I guess. Moving around,” he says pensively.

“You getting a bit of cabin fever?” You ask. 

“If that means I’m restless, then yes.”

“Well then,” you say, sitting up, “let’s do something!” 

“Like what?” 

You look around, spotting Grillby’s record player by the bookshelf. “Why don’t we dance?”

“Are you serious?” Grillby watches you incredulously as you jump up and begin thumbing through records. 

“Well, yeah! It could get rid of that nervous energy,” you tease. “Plus it’s fun!”

“Dear, you _know_ I’m not graceful. Remember the Christmas party?”

You laugh. “Oh, I remember,” you say slyly, giving him a side eye. His flames flare blue as he blushes. 

“Not _after_ the party,” he stammers, turning his face away.

“I know, you kept stepping on my feet,” you giggle. “But this won’t be slow dancing. It’ll be fun, silly dancing.” You pause, letting out a laugh as you spot the title of a record. “You have ‘Don’t Scare Me, Papa’?”

“Yes, it’s a good song,” Grillby says, a bit defensively. 

“Oh yeah, it’s a _great_ song. In fact, we’re gonna dance to it.” You pull it out of its case and place it on the record player. As the fast-paced song begins to play, you start a little side step, sidling over to Grillby and holding out your hand. He puts his face in his hand, shaking his head. “C’mon Grillbz, this song is short!” You grab his arm and haul him to his feet, taking his hands. 

His face is blue as he hesitantly sways to the beat. “This is silly,” he mutters. 

“That’s the point! C’mon, it’s just you and me. Do I look like I’m gonna judge your dancing?” you swing your arms back and forth, smiling broadly. Grillby cracks a smile, and you pull your arms outward, stepping towards him. He blinked in alarm as you then lean outward. “This is called swing dancing,” you explain, twirling around. “Step in,” you pull him inwards again, “and out.” 

Grillby, whose feet had been firmly planted on the carpet, finally moves as he takes a step back, and then in towards you again. He starts to get more into it as he watches you bounce back and forth, forgetting his embarrassment as the drums crash. It’s still a sloppy dance, and you keep going the wrong way or letting go of each other’s hand, but it’s fun, and it’s free. The song ends suddenly, leaving you breathless with effort and laughter. 

“You all tired out now?” You ask, still holding his hands. 

He laughs. “My arms are certainly tired from you pulling on them.” 

“Well, _I’m_ exhausted now.” You turn and plop onto the couch, sprawling out like a rag doll. 

“Probably because you were dancing like a madwoman,” Grillby says, sitting beside you. 

“That’s right! I put my whole SOUL into that dance. And it worked! You’re out of breath!” 

“Just a little. More from laughing at you than dancing.” Grillby turns and lays down, folding his arms across your stomach and resting his chin on them as he watches you catch your breath. “Thank you. That was fun.”

“I told you so,” you say, taking his hand and rubbing your fingers over his ring. He lays his head down with a sigh, watching you. 

You smile and kiss his knuckles. “You comfy?”

“Mhm.” He yawns, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Me too.” Your stomach crowds with butterflies as you feel his warm, heavy weight on top of you. You hope that feeling never goes away. 

****

You wake up the next morning still laying on the couch, feeling a little stiff. Grillby has moved up a little, arms hugging your waist and face buried in your chest. His flames glow a pleasant, dark orange, and they’re low and quiet. His glasses are askew on his face, so you gently remove them, folding them and putting them on the footrest. He stirrs, nuzzling into you and opening bleary eyes. 

“Good morning,” you murmur. 

“Mm, morning,” he hums, looking up at you. His eyes squint in a sleepy smile. 

“We should go somewhere today,” you say, gently playing with the flames on his head. 

Grillby sighs, closing his eyes again. “Later... still wanna sleep...”

You squirm a little, attempting to free yourself, but he just groans quietly and hugs you tighter. “I don’t have much choice, do I?” You murmur. 

“Nnnope,” Grillby mumbles into your chest. 

“Can you come up more then? My arms are cold, and my legs are asleep.” 

Grillby look up at you, and you stick your lip out, huddling your arms to show how cold you are. He sighs and slowly obliges, untangling himself from your waist and crawling forward, eyes barely open. Your turn on your side, facing the couch, and he plops down beside you, instantly draping his arm over your waist again and pressing you against him. You look over at the clock to see it’s 6am. There’s no harm in sleeping a little longer. 

***

The next time you wake up, Grillby is draped over you again, chin resting on your head and legs tangled with yours. You could feel the sleepy thrum of his SOUL as you shift a little. He hums quietly and curls around you more. Another glance at the clock told you it was almost nine. Your stomach growls impatiently. 

“Hey.... Grillbyy,” you murmur, gently pushing away from him to look at his face. His eyes open, flames flaring up slightly. “Morning, sleepy head.”

“...morning, bed head,” he mumbles, ruffling you hair. 

“Shut up,” you huff and hit his chest lightly. He laughs and leans down to kiss you. “Nooo, I have morning breath,” you whine, turning your face away. 

“I don’t care,” he murmurs, moving above you and pressing his lips to yours. You relax, reluctantly kissing him back. He sighs contentedly and then drops on top of you, burying his face in your neck. You let out a quiet “oof” as he puts his whole weight on you. 

“You’re heavy,” you mutter as you attempt to push him off you, to no avail. 

“You’re soft,” he counters, unbothered by your attempts to escape. You stop squirming and huff, your stomach growling again. 

Grillby lifts his head slightly. “Was that you?”

“I’m hungry,” you pout, hugging Grillby’s chest. “My stomach is growling.”

“Hungry?” Grillby props himself on his elbows. “My wife is hungry? Impossible. Unheard of.” 

“I’m also getting crushed by my own lover,” you say dramatically, falling back against the couch. “I’m dying...”

“You’re a drama queen,” Grillby chuckles, climbing off the couch and lifting you bridal style. 

You go limp in his arms. “You’re too late, I’m dead.” 

“I guess you can’t eat crepes if you’re dead.” 

You instantly perk up, hugging his neck. “Oh, I’m alive again, and still hungry.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. He pauses a moment, looking around. “Where are my glasses?” 

“Right there,” you point to the footrest. “You fell asleep with them on.”

“Oh, thank you.” Grillby suddenly drops you back on the couch, and you yelp in surprise. He puts his glasses on and then looks down at you. “Much better.” You sit up, folding your arms and sticking your tongue out at him. He sticks his tongue out right back. “Do you want to help me make breakfast or not?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the song you dance to!
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zeC5yr--CdQ


End file.
